


Drunk on You

by Itrustyoutokillme



Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 22:03:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11090826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itrustyoutokillme/pseuds/Itrustyoutokillme
Summary: Michael and Sara end up back at his apartment.Sequel to "Sex First, Coffee Later", so i suggest you read that one first :D





	Drunk on You

[ [Sex First, Coffee Later](http://prisonbreakfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=5366) can be read here ]

Michael was finding it more than difficult to focus, let alone turn the key in the lock of his front door with Sara's tender kisses falling all over his neck. It was strange for him to be so into one person twice in one night that he couldn't manage to even open his apartment. Then again, alcohol might have been a part of it. Finally, through growls and giggles, Michael's apartment door burst open and they both tumbled into the darkness until Michael flicked on a nearby light switch, illuminating his kitchen. "Here we are," he announced, twirling around his kitchen with a grin. "This is where the magic happens," he smirked.

Sara all but pounced on him, wrapping her arms around his neck quickly. "The magic, huh?" She pressed her lips to his neck, biting softly. "Getting a little full of yourself there, aren't you, Scofield?"

Michael's hand found her back, smoothing his warm fingertips over the fabric, or lack there of, of her top. A chuckle rumbled from his chest and he flashed a look sideways to his black counter top. It was black marble, flecked with silver and cold on Michael's back when he fell back against it and pulled her to him. One of Michael's hands left her body, reaching behind him and producing a clear, glass, bulb shaped pot with a black plastic handle. "I meant the coffee," he grinned wickedly.

"Oh, yeah," Sara murmured, kissing him softly on his mouth. She reached around, taking the coffee pot from him. Sitting it down in the counter, she laced her free hand through his. "Coffee was the point of this, wasn't it?"

When the kiss broke, Michael licked his lips, tasting Sara on his lips. He hummed contently but fell silent when Sara began to threat her fingers through his as he watched intently. "Coffee was the point," Michael repeated her words, "but..." he sang with a smile as his eyes met hers again.

"But. . ." Sara repeated, finding her fingers trailing down his chest to his belt buckle. "The sex was so good that you want some more?"

Michael sucked in a heavy breath and his stomach tingled as her delicate fingers trailed down his torso. He let out a laugh that was laced with a sexy growl. Reluctantly he held onto her wrist and halted her advances. "Sara, the sex was..." he paused, his eyes fluttering closed as he recalled Sara's moans and her writhing beneath him. "...well, you know, you were there," he smiled. "But why don't we sober up a bit first, so we both remember it tomorrow."

"Ah, you want to sober up," Sara pulled her wrists away from him and stepped back, leaning against the counter. "So you really did just invite me up for coffee then."

Michael frowned, slightly hurt by her reaction and immediately missed the warmth of Sara's body pressed against his. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, jokingly. "Well, if you don't want coffee I have hot chocolate," he grinned.

"Coffee works for me," Sara smiled, shaking her head, and handing the pot back to him. "I might be up all night though."

Michael took the pot, set it up in the maker and then switched it on. "All night?" He asked with his back to Sara, watching the hot syrupy coffee trickle through the filter and pool in the glass pot. He could feel her eyes on his back, outlining his muscles and stripping his shirt from his body. Smiling to himself, Michael unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his shirt up his arms until they rested on his elbows. Michael had a tattoo just above his elbow that Sara spied peeking from the crimson of his rolled shirt sleeves each time his arm moved to fiddle with the coffee machine.

"Hmm," Sara murmured, stepping closer to him and gently outlining his tattoo. "I have one too. Did you notice it earlier?"

Michael's skin prickled when Sara touched him and his head turned to watch her finger slither over his tattoo. His eyes darted to her face and her smile that he caught like an infection and his own spread across his face. "I'm sorry," he said, turning to lean his back against the counter careful not to knock the boiling coffee pot. He pushed his sleeve up his arm a little and exposed the full length of his tattoo, the dull black band wrapped around the bottom of his bicep rippled with each muscle flex. "Everything happened so fast, I must have missed it," he added apologetically. "I'd love to see it though," he grinned with wide, beaming eyes.

Sara smirked, letting go of him and unbuttoning her pants. She pulled them down her hip, just slightly, exposing the inky butterfly. "I got it when I was in college. I was drunk and it was a dare."

The butterfly was so feminine to him, so innocent and so not Sara. "A dare, eh?" he smiled, dropping to squat in front of her and leaning forward to inspect the coloured scarring closely. Michael lifted his hand and delicately ran his fingertips over the skin of Sara's hip, barely touching her. He exhaled against her skin and it peaked to life before he stood back up quickly when the coffee finished boiling. "Do I want to know who dared you to get such an intimate tattoo?" he pried, taking two black coffee mugs from his metallic draining board and pouring the scolding, black liquid into both of them.

"It was a girlfriend. She was drunk too," Sara laughed, taking the coffee from him and sipping from it. She rebuttoned her pants, and leaned up against the counter, watching him as he moved. "You don't have to be jealous or anything."

Michael laughed before sipping his coffee in a mirror image of Sara. "I'm not jealous," he said softly, his lips twitching to hide the smirk that tried to creep into view.

"Good. We wouldn't want that." Sara tilted her head to the side and smiled at him, taking another drink. Turning around she wandered into the living room, admiring his decorations.

Sara was already more to Michael than a one-night stand. He had known that as soon as they had hit the hood of his car and fit together perfectly. Michael took a gulp of his coffee and put the mug onto the counter behind him. Inhaling hard, he pushed his hands into his pockets and followed Sara out of the kitchen and into the living room. It was masculine, full of hard, straight edges and black furniture, with no pictures of his family, friends or even pets. Michael stood in a shadowed corner of his living room and watched her navigate his abode. "So Sara, what do you do when you're not meeting guys like me in a bar?"

"Well. . ." Sara turned around to look at him. "I'm a doctor over at Chicago Memorial. I work in the ER." She paused and ran her hand over the back of a leather chair. "And I don't usually meet guys like you in bars."

"Is that a compliment?" he said flirtily in a low voice. His voice was divine and if it could have been seen, Sara was sure it would resemble the drizzling motion of freshly melted chocolate. Michael smiled to himself, liking how he could see Sara and everything she was doing but she could barely make him out in his shadowed apartment. The way she moved was flawless, fluid and so tempting like a forbidden fruit that even the simplest of actions, like delicately trailing her smooth, milky skin across Michael's furniture, excited his brain that interpreted it as something much more.

Sara smiled over at him, trying to make out his face from within the shadows. Finally she walked over to him and shrugged, "I guess it is. How about you? What are you doing when you're not having sex on the hood of your car?"

The thought of simply having sex on the hood of a car that wasn't his but he was paid for the privilege of driving made Michael chuckle. His lips curled up into a smile and he inhaled softly, taking in the scent of Sara as she stood before him. "I know I’ll never live that down," he smirked with a sheepish grin. "But no seriously," he began with a quirk of his eyebrow and a more serious tone. "I’m a structural engineer,” he said proudly.

"A structural engineer, hmm?" Sara quirked an eyebrow and stepped back, just slightly. "You're an artist then. Not a big surprise considering how good you are with those hands."

Michael blushed at Sara’s words; such a far cry from how he had been when he had thought he’d never see the woman before him and half naked minutes ago ever again. Michael enjoyed dominance, it made him aroused beyond belief and Sara was certainly that. Feisty and dominant, two of his favourites words, was tracing her tiny, suggestive hands all over his apartment as they relayed pointless, time consuming converse. Time Michael considered could have been spent in a much more precarious situation. “I wouldn’t say artist. I don’t actually touch any of the building materials,” Michael’s chocolaty voice drizzled again as he stepped towards Sara and brushed her rusty auburn hair to one side, exposing her neck to his hungry gaze. “Ruins the hands,” he purred, running his silky smooth thumb over her collarbone.

Sara smiled as he touched her, closing her eyes against the feel of his soft fingers. Letting out a soft murmur, she stepped closer to him. She was sobering up, and coming to the conclusion that she liked this too much. She shouldn't be getting so involved with a one night stand. "And we wouldn't want anything to happen to those hands, would we?"

Michael beamed a smile when she stepped closer, into his touch. Maybe, just maybe, Sara wanted him as much as he wanted her and this time, it wouldn't be on the hood of a car in a car park. This time it would be warm, loving, and considerate. Real. Michael's hand trailed up Sara's neck, tickling the wispy hairs that grew there and cradled her skull in his huge hand. His eyes darted from hers to her lips, a flash of hazel each time he did imprinting on his brain. With the lightest, feathery advance, Michael closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Sara's slowly and deliberately. If he hadn't of known better, he could have sworn she melted into his embrace.

Sara let out a quiet moan, against her will, as he kissed her softly. Her arms looped around his neck, and her fingers pressed into him, drawing him closer. She shifted her hips against his, as she opened her mouth up to him. It was more than obvious that he was ready to go another round. Pulling back, just slightly, she whispered, "Michael. . ."

His name on Sara's lips was enough for Michael to flush with excitement. In a surge of rushing hormones and want, Michael bent his knees, gripped Sara's perfectly curved behind in both hands and hoisted her up to his waist. Sara instinctively wrapped her legs around his middle, straddling his engorged manhood and holding it in a painful, yet satisfyingly pleasant grip. Michael groaned and it was hot and breathy, his face contorting with a mixture of wicked intent and total sublimation. He hastily made his way to his bedroom, his effortless footsteps falling silent on his thick carpeted floor. The door was already open and Michael wasted no time reaching the low, dark wood framed bed and sitting himself down with Sara astride his lap. He released his hold on her body, pulled his lips from hers with a messy smacking sound and fell back against his dark blue sheets with a heady grunt.

Sara fell down against him, her knees on either side of his waist. She pressed her hips into his, trying to lean up and kiss him at the same time. Laughing softly, she leaned down, her hair falling down across their faces, hiding them. "Are you sober enough to remember this tomorrow?"

Michael joined her in her laughter as he panted for needed breath. He brushed Sara's hair from her face with messy swishing of his supple hands and grinned back at her. "Oh yeah..." he chuckled with a husky air to his voice.

Sara laughed again before capturing his lips another a kiss. The kiss was longer, deeper, wetter and she kept her mouth against his until she could hardly breathe. Breathless, she whispered against his neck, "You do this a lot?"

Michael arched his neck, begging for her to lay down her torturous assault of kisses to his rapid pulse. "Well," he began, his eyes fluttering closed when Sara shifted against his erection. He gulped and his arms fell limp against the bed above his head as Sara used his body as she wanted. "Let's just say no one has made it to the bedroom in a very long time," he smirked into the room with eyes pinched closed and fist clenched to the luxurious sheets.

Sara smirked, moving her kisses over his jaw line and down his neck, until she reached his pulse point. Darting out her tongue quickly, she sucked gently at the sensitive area. "Mmm, I feel special."

"You feel special?" Michael teased, shifting his legs uncomfortably so that his painfully hard member was a little more comfortable in its confines. "Sara, this feels so good I could just lay here and let you violate me all night," he rasped taking another dry gulp. "How much coffee did you drink again?" he quipped with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"I guess you just bring out the best in me." Sara laughed quietly, running her hands down the length of his body. She stopped at his belt, slowly undoing the buckle. "Let's get rid of these."

Michael went limp in Sara's hands, allowing her to dispose of anything she wanted. He crossed his arms under his head and propped up his head to watch her with a devilish smirk. When the temptation became too much, Michael reached out and ran a tenderly soft gripped hand over Sara's thigh, scratching lightly at the fabric with his fingertips and leaving a hot trail across Sara's skin. "I definitely like the best in you Sara," Michael said with a desperate whine when Sara pulled his pants down and off the ends of his legs.

Sara definitely liked the emotions she was evoking in Michael. She trailed her hand slowly up his leg before stopping at the bulge in his boxers. She cupped him through his boxers and pressed her lips to his neck. "What do you want from me, Michael?"

A question Michael really wished Sara had asked him when her smouldering hand wasn't plastered over his heated erection. There was two ways to answer this. One was to crack a joke about his current vulnerability, in essence, offering himself to her on a giant human sized plate full of arousal and enjoyable noises. The second was a little harder. It was a mood killer, a death sentence among young horny couples out for a good time. Michael wanted both options, only he wanted the second marginally more. He simply wanted Sara. His eyes flickered open and he crooked his head to hers as he lifted her face to look at him with a gently persuasion. "I want you Sara. I've wanted you from the moment I saw you in that bar and the fact that you're here with me after knowing me for..." he paused, tilting his wrist to inspect the time. "...an hour and a half, tells me I’m not alone in what I crave. Plus, what a damn inappropriate question while you got my lil' man in your hands," he grinned. Option one also worked.

Sara leaned down and pushed his boxers down, just slightly. Briefly, she pressed her lips to his hip bone before pushing them the rest of the way down. Their little sex-fest could very easily be ruined. Getting rid of his boxers, she straddled his waist again, leaning back up to kiss him. She took his bottom lips between her lips and nibbled gently before speaking. "Are you trying to say you want more than sex, Michael?"

Michael accepted her kisses with earnest; they were a welcome distraction from the pressure building up in his gut ready to release itself all over Sara's lap. When she pressed her wet, hot lips to his hip bone, so close to his member, the organ twitched and sprang sideways as if reaching for her attention. Michael's breath caught in his throat and he offered her a weak, innocent smile. "Would you get off of me if I said yes?"

"No," Sara whispered. "Not unless you want me too." She kissed his mouth again quickly before moving down his body. She placed two kisses against his stomach and another on his hip bone before taking him in her mouth. Michael let out a moan, and Sara took it as encouragement to continue on.

“Oh God no, Sara,” Michael hissed, slamming his head into the bed and gripping at the bed sheets, balling the thick fabric in his fists and leaving it crumpled in his wake. “Please, don’t stop,” he begged as tiny beads of sweat began to form on his brow and he gently lifted his hip to meet Sara’s lips each time she took him into the hot, wet cavern of her mouth.

Michael's moans and pleadings only egged her on further. She took him deeper into her mouth, letting out a quiet moan around him. She added her hand, stroking him as she bobbed her head up and down.

Sara's hair tickled at Michael's groin as she devoured him but he did not notice it because of that. The curtain of red silk strands shielded his view and so half of his experience was lost. Michael pushed himself up onto one elbow and with his other hand, reached out and moved Sara's hair from in front of her face. The fact that Michael knew Sara could taste herself on him even added to his pleasure and he was sure if he looked up the definition of erotic in a dictionary, this would be described, if not depicted artistically. "Oh yeah...that's it," Michael hissed seductively, constantly stroking Sara's hair from his view.

Sara released him slowly, using just her hand long enough to look up at him and whisper, "You like that?" After a moments pause, she returned to what she was doing. Normally, she wasn't into giving oral pleasure but the sounds he was making made her want to push him further and further.

Michael's breathing quickened and he felt the familiar urge within his stomach. His body quivered in response to Sara's advances but he didn't want to spend himself in her mouth; not when he could think of much warmer, tighter places to leave his deposits. "More than anything," he gasped, loosely balling his fist in her hair. "But if you don't stop, there will be no fun for Sara," he said, his voice hot and sweet as it escaped his maw.

Sara released him slowly from her mouth, smirking up at him. She kissed the inside of his thigh before pressing her lips to his neck. "But I like it when you're having fun."

"I'd rather we both had fun," Michael whispered against her ear, taking a moment to nibble on her ear lobe. "Wouldn't you like some more amazing fun?" he growled with a smirked that Sara felt against her neck when Michael gripped her by the hips and ground his lubricated arousal into her. Michael knew she wanted him, he could smell her.

Sara smiled. "I definitely," she kissed him. "Definitely want some more amazing fun." She held onto the hem of her shirt, ready to pull it over her head. "Are you sure you can live up to the first time?"

Michael laughed heartily and Sara jiggled on his lap. "Michael Scofield, Amazing? Come on," he teased with a smirk. "Wouldn't you like to find out?" He asked her as he sat up and overtook her own hands to pull her shirt up over her head. For the first time that night Michael saw Sara's creamy skin that was smooth to touch. For a second, he simply took in the site of her cleavage, nestled neatly in her lacy black bra, before delving his tongue at the skin and kisses away his invasions. "I know I would," he breathed against her skin, moving up from her breasts to lightly trail kisses up her throat as he held her to him with splayed hands pressed tightly against her shoulders.

"God, I want to find out." Sara let out a quiet growl as he kissed her. She wanted nothing more than to rip all of her clothes off and have her way with him. Twice. Three times. All night. She feathered light kisses on his cheeks.

The way Sara begged for him drove Michael insane. He clutched her to him, unable to let his hands slip for even a second as he twisted their bodies and laid Sara down onto the dark, midnight blue of his bed sheets. Michael patted tiny, sweet kisses back down Sara’s body, nuzzling at her breasts and mouthing an angry, pert, dusky nipple through the thin scarp of material Sara called a bra. Sara’s back arched off the sheets and Michael smiled against the taught skin of her smooth stomach as he dipped an investigative tongue into her belly button. Michael hooked his fingers into the waist band of Sara’s pants after unbuttoning them and with little effort, he slid them down her long, slender legs along with her panties and stood at the edge of the bed to drink in her writhing figure. “Take off your bra,” Michael ordered in a honey soft, passion-laden voice as he unbuttoned his own crumpled shirt and let it slide down his arms to the floor.

Sara moved beneath him as he kissed her, a sound mixed between a moan and a gasp leaving her throat when his mouth brushed over the thin material of her bra. She sat up, watching as his shirt fell from his shoulders, barely even registering his words. When they finally clicked, she quickly undid her bra and let it fall next to his shirt.

Michael let out an audible gasp when the now naked Sara Tancredi grinned up at him from his bed sheets as she wiggled playfully in front of him. He might have had an orgasm right then if it were not for the thin shred of self control he still held dear. Michael dropped to his knees and leant forward to claim Sara's in his hands, pulling her to the edge of his bed without effort and parting her legs before him. "You're so beautiful," he whispered against her skin as he moved towards her aching core, each time leaving her skin ablaze with his frightfully accurate kisses. Just like before, Sara's neatly kept mound of hair was enticing and he wanted to bury himself within her and loose himself forever. However, right now, he wanted to taste the nectar that excited his senses so much his erection has began to weep its creamy seed between his legs.

"Oh, Michael," Sara whispered as he feathered his kisses on her skin. He was driving her crazy, he was so good at driving her crazy. She wiggled against him, growing impatient. "What are you trying to do to me?"

Michael let out a breathy laugh and hot, humid air puffed against Sara’s sensitive clitoris. He lifted his head a little to watch her reaction and without losing sight of her beautiful features, he dipped his head and kissed the bundle of nerves. Michael kissed slowly, sucking slightly at the pink hub and making Sara feel like he was sucking out her soul. When he finally, after minutes of torture, dipped his blunted tongue into Sara, he was instantly drunk on her taste. It was like an expensive wine that you have once in a lifetime because it is so sparsely made and can only be tasted at a specific occasion. When Sara’s laboured breathing hitched, and her legs clenched against the sides of Michael’s head he knew she couldn’t hold onto her release anymore and his fingers joined his tongue, scraping lightly over her g-spot and letting her ride out her orgasm against his hand. An orgasm that wouldn't be the only one that night, or in the future.

 


End file.
